‘Being Aro’ | Personal Essay, Overland Journal

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, stomach churning. I’ve typed the text message at least ten times and then deleted it; the clicking

of the backspace doing nothing to ease the fear. I toss my phone on the bed and leave the room. I run a bath and tell myself I’m being silly. They’re my two best friends. They’re both queer. They will understand…